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“No, no, no. How is this possible?” The words come out muffled to my own ears, but I suddenly become aware of somebody close to me.
Looking up, I see a female police officer. Her mouth is moving as she looks at me with concern, but I can’t hear anything. There’s just a fuzzy buzzing in my ears. When she reaches out a hand to me, I jolt away from her. I quickly look over to where Rick and Ryder were, but they’re no longer there. Instead, as I look around more, I see Rick striding towards me. His pace quickens as our eyes meet, and panic rises in my chest. I can’t be here. Can’t be near this man. A man that I’ve allowed to touch me, fuck me, even slip—just a fraction—beneath the cage surrounding my heart.
The policewoman, sensing my panic, attempts to grab me as I begin backtracking away from her. Away from Rick.
“Jess. Jess. Wait a second,” he calls out to me.
I don’t wait. No, I run.
I dive right into the middle of the crowd, stopping quickly to remove my shoes before pushing through to the other side.
I hear my name being called and look back to see Rick crashing through behind me. With no time to get to my car, I race down the street.
After running for ten minutes, I slow to a walk and take in my surroundings. Thankfully, I know this area quite well. Pulling my phone free, I call a cab and arrange to be picked up at the bar just round the corner from here.
“JJ,get your arse out here before it gets cold.”
Rolling over, I groan as Roxy hollers down the hall to me. Damn woman is a menace. But she’s the best kind. Aside from Christian, she’s the only person allowed to call me JJ.
When we were kids, I used to hate being called Jessica, so Christian started calling me JJ. With my middle name being Joyce, after Father’s mother, it seemed like the perfect alternative. Not to mention how much is pissed our father off.
When the cab turned down my road last night, I recognised a familiar figure standing outside my house and quickly ordered the driver to continue driving. I would say I’ve no idea how Rick knew where I lived, but given what he does for a job, it’s not a surprise.
As it turned out, coming to Roxy’s was exactly what I needed.
The scent of fried bacon reaches my nose as I climb from the bed and head out to the kitchen before she decides I need a bed bath as a wake-up call. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s dumped a bucket of water over me to get me up in the morning.
Roxy and I met at college, and soon became best friends—joined at the hip as they say. My father can’t stand her, and my mother is indifferent to her, although always polite. According to my father, Roxy is foul-mouthed council trash, and exactly what is wrong with society today.
I wholeheartedly disagree, not least because that’s what my father thinks, but because it couldn’t be further from the truth. What’s really wrong with society today is corrupt, greedy, power-hungry men like my father. The type of men, and some women, whose only interest is stepping over everyone else to get to the top.
Besides, some of the best people I’ve met come from what my father calls ‘the wrong side of the tracks’.
“JJ, move your fu—oh, you’re up. About fucking time too. Here, get this bacon sarnie down your neck, then we can get your car before I go to work,” she says, handing me a plate and a cup of tea.
“Cheers. You know it’s Sunday, right?”
“The dead don’t rest on Sundays, JJ. Anyway, I had a call about a decapitated body washed up on the banks of the Thames this morning, so get eating ‘cause I’ve got to get you dropped off and to the other side of town in thirty minutes.”
“Shit, Rox! Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” I mumble around a mouthful of food. She stops loading the dishwasher to give me a ‘you’re kidding, right’ look. “Okay, point taken. I can’t help it if I sleep like the dead.” I shove another bite in my mouth before gulping down my tea. With my plate in hand, I shuffle off to the bedroom I slept in last night to get dressed.
I find a pair of leggings and an oversized off the shoulder jumper Roxy left for me, along with a pair of pumps like my Converse. I find a small holdall in the wardrobe and shove my dress and shoes inside with my clutch but put my phone in my back pocket.
“So, what’s your next move, JJ? I mean, this guy, Rick, you’re sure it’s the same guy Christian told you about?” Rox asks as she cuts across the junction in front of a white van, earning a loud honk of his horn and few choice words that would bag you a pretty penny in a swear jar. And to think, he kisses his mother with that mouth.
I rub my hands down my thighs. Just the mere mention of him has my stomach doing somersaults, and not the good kind. “I’m sure, Rox. And I haven’t got a damn clue what to do next.”
“If you want answers—”
“I’ll have to see him, I know. I’m just not sure that I can. Not without committing murder, anyway.”
“Death by orgasm, I like it.”
“It’s not fucking funny, Rox,” I snap. “Sorry, it’s just…”
“You liked him, huh. He must be kind of special to melt your iron heart. Either that or he’s Rick with the big dick; a big magic dick.” She lets loose a howl of laughter, and after I give her a slap to the shoulder, I join her. Let’s be honest, she’s not wrong. About the dick at least. As for being special? The only thing special about him right now is he holds all the answers I’ve spent years searching for.
Twenty-Two
